


Sun Kissed

by Janeese



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: But not exactly, Feelings confessed, Fluff, It could be more but I'm not sure yet, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeese/pseuds/Janeese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I really wanted to take the southern phrase "sun kissed" in a more literal translation. In so doing I have a masturbation attempt by Master Baggins that has been thwarted by Thorin making his presence known. Thorin then proceeds to help to 'assist' Master Baggins with his issue and in so doing every one ends up happy for the time being. It's not a divergence from the horrible ending of the canon... just yet. </p><p>Read and tell me what you think. I did have thoughts about extending this into other chapters but I'm just not sure yet.</p><p>Let me know what you think and we'll see yes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun Kissed

“Sun kissed…”

Disclaimer: Of course none of the characters appearing in this fiction belong to me. They are property of Tolkien and whomever else it may concern (I don’t pay attention to copyright so long as I know it’s not good to do it).

 

As far as the title is concerning, I hope everyone will hear me out on that cause it’s super cute. I’m from the south you see and when a person is ‘sun kissed’ it means that they’re getting more freckles. What I thought about was that kings were represented as the sun so why not make it a more literal translation? Thorin, being the future king of Erebor, will kiss upon Bilbo Baggins… Maybe even leaving a few dark marks. I’ll figure out some way to incorporate the freckles cause I think it’s too cute.

At any rate please enjoy and reviews are more than welcome… To a reasonable degree. Constructive criticism is not the same as bashing people and vice versa.  
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Bilbo’s respect for the homeless dwarf king was high in regards. Mostly, the hobbit had assumed, from the dwarf’s presence which demanded respect as soon as he entered a room. Bilbo had noticed this the first time they met inside his hobbit hole. 

At first his own feelings were muddled. He couldn’t read the atmosphere that took over the hobbit hole when Thorin Oakenshield knocked at his door. All the raucous that had been going on by his self-invited guests had quieted. Going with Gandalf to the door, Bilbo tried to figure out rather calculatingly, to soothe his nerves, whether the new atmosphere was out of impending fear or some other sort.

Bilbo was introduced to the royal vagabond upon him entering his home. Having his person inspected as Thorin walked around him, studying him, caused his feelings to muddle themselves further. He had been expecting some impending danger to come over his threshold; as if mention of a mark disgracing his newly painted door wasn’t enough. 

Now as he stood facing this possible threat to his peaceful living he felt that impending urge to bow on one knee and pledge his loyalty as if here were knight before his king in a fairy tale. Thorin himself wasn’t menacing but simply that when one wishes for another’s respect and acknowledgement that being usually fears being rejected by said party.

Without the tale having even begun it would be ridiculous if Bilbo were privileged to recognizing his own feelings. At this point in his story all Bilbo knew was that he felt threatened or intimidated for some reason by the dwarf. The feeling didn’t get any better when Thorin had insulted him by comparing him to a grocer instead of a burglar.

He had tried to redeem himself when asked about his weapon of choice, his Tookish nature rearing its head in response. However that plan didn’t work in his favor as much as he had hoped. While his plan didn’t lower his status any more it didn’t raise it either; being that he didn’t have one to begin with. 

Bilbo surmised he’d be labeled as the ‘grocer-burglar’ in the minds of the company from then on as the rest of the company agreed with their king on said comment.

Really, he wasn’t sure that it should matter to him. While the dwarves were discussing their plans at the dinner table he was pondering the facts. These dwarves were on a quest. As a Baggins of Bag-end he was a respectable hobbit and had every intention of not accepting the offer to join said quest.

When Gandalf had produced the map of the lonely mountain his interest had peaked; the Took in him surfacing again. Bilbo’s infatuation with maps and tales of great adventures was not a conscious point to him as Tookish nature. His reappearance at the table however had brought him back into the discussion. 

After having brought an additional candle to the table for ‘more light’, as the wizard had suggested, argument took place. Between the dwarrows at his table the issue was having to do with whether he was the ‘burglar’ that the company needed or not.

An expert they had asked him; how preposterous. A respectable hobbit such as he had never stolen anything in his life. Problem was that when Gandalf had threatened every one with his overshadowing presence, intimidating everyone at the table, to agree to his choice Bilbo couldn’t say anything to rebuff the wizards’ claims. 

Bilbo thought it was because the wizard had been so intimidating. At a later point in the journey, thinking back on it, Bilbo had realized it was because someone had faith in him. He couldn’t remember another feeling quite as pleasant.

The decision had been made as there was not much room to argue with a wizard. Balin, the eldest amongst the group of dwarves pushed to Mr. Baggins a contract of sorts. Bilbo skimmed over the parts he thought were most important, lingering on funeral arrangements and the various ways in which one could die along the trip.

“Including but not limited to lacerations…” he had trailed off while reading the words in hopes that if he read them slowly and carefully they would not be spelled out as such horrific ends. “Evisceration? Incineration?” 

Bilbo had looked to the dwarrows, completely serious on the subject. As one of the ways one could die that would not be his preferred method of leaving the world.  
Bofur, a cheerful dwarf with stuck out braids protruding from his crooked hat, was explaining how it would feel to die in one way or the other. “Think Furnace with wings.” 

Bilbo began to choke on his breath. Trying desperately to catch it again he began hyperventilating. 

“Flash of light, searing pain then, poof, you’re nothing more than a pile of ash.” 

Bofur certainly didn’t intend on the reaction he had received from Mr. Bilbo. His explaining in detail how it would feel to die by incineration was simply his nature; there was no real harm meant in his actions. Be that as it may, Mr. Bilbo had a hard time grasping the world swirling in his vision and fainted flat on his back against the floor.

Master Baggins was a Baggins of Bag-end therefore he had opted to refuse the offer completely. There was no way he could just go traipsing off into the wild and leave everything unattended at home. He had told the wizard as much in their conversation after he had regained consciousness. 

Gandalf had also said that he couldn’t even guarantee his safe return to Bag-end. Thinking back on all this, why was it that he was astride a pony on the road with the company of dwarrows then? 

After he noticed that he didn’t have his pocket handkerchief he reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Bofur had made a makeshift one out of Eru only knew, tossing it to their burglar to make use of.

Bilbo had plenty of time to think on his actions. Was his inner Took to blame for him riding along on this suicide mission? Did he want to satisfy his curiosity of the world by joining them on their adventure? Was the reason because he wanted to prove to himself that he was more than what he thought himself to be? 

Those certainly were amiable reasons in his mind. These things seemed very plausible to master Baggins at first and had set his mind at ease before he began thinking on another reason. He remembered how Thorin had turned around to him completely when he ran up to the company earlier with his signature on the contract.

Thorin had said to give him the pony that he was now riding. This meant that Thorin wasn’t going to reject him coming along. Of course, following that train of thought, that didn’t necessarily mean that Thorin wanted him along for the ride either. 

Still, Bilbo thought he’d like to be of service to Thorin. This line of reasoning surprised Bilbo some. Why should he want to help the one dwarf who had been nothing but rude to him since the beginning? 

Offering Bilbo the pony he was astride was the one kindness he had afforded him. He tried not to think about it but he felt it. There was a feeling he had that drew him towards the dwarf king; respect or fear? 

At that time when Bilbo had approached the company and he handed the contract over to Balin, his eyes and Thorin’s had met. It had been only for a moment, no more than a few brief seconds when their eyes had met. A moment was enough for Bilbo to see the blue in Thorin’s eyes brighten. 

The sight had been similar to looking at the small fishing ponds in Hobbiton. After seeing the darker waters, nothing was visible until the sun shone down on the surface, revealing some of the turtles or smaller fish who dared come close to the surface.

Bilbo inwardly ridiculed himself for the thought. The image was far too humble to describe a king but with his limited knowledge it was all he could think of to describe what he felt. He thought he had seen something in that split second when their eyes met; thought he had grasped something he had been trying to understand.

The thoughts Bilbo had were contradicting themselves every time Thorin interacted with him. Their interactions were brief and discourteous; on Thorin’s end. Bilbo would often feel the need to make an opposing argument to whatever it was Thorin had said to him but pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

It would do him no good to start that many fights with the dwarf king knowing full well the repercussions. They were on an adventure that might take several months to complete. The prospect of being considered ‘the hobbit that talks back and is not truthfully a burglar’ was not something he desired on the remainder of their journey. Besides, wasn’t it his wish that he be of some help to the dwarf king?

Despite the undesirable urge to argue with Thorin, Bilbo reminded himself that he was a Baggins of Bag-end. He wanted to remain respectable as far as hobbits would be concerned and friendly towards the dwarves as he found he didn’t necessarily dislike them. Thorin aside, Bilbo found that he could have decent conversations with the rest of the company when they weren’t being too rowdy for his comfort.

He took this all into consideration when he woke on their third morning out. The sky was extremely dark and there were only a few stars out. From this Bilbo deduced that it was still very early in the morning. Bilbo knew the sun would be starting up the horizon any moment.

As his senses were catching up to him Bilbo only mildly wondered why his eyes were even open at that dreadful hour. The company was planning to set out at first light and that meant that they would have a full days ride ahead. He tried to roll himself over on his front, thinking that if he could manage to sleep even a little while longer he would banish the uneasy feeling coming up from his stomach. 

Upon doing so Bilbo opened his eyes again noting that it wasn’t his stomach the feeling was coming from. Bilbo shifted his thighs, pressing them together then rubbing for confirmation feeling hardness between them. Bilbo Baggins was mortified with the realization that he now had a morning hard on.

‘The worst has happened’, Bilbo thought. Even as the heat was plaguing his body with need his mind went straight to what the other dwarves would think if they found out; not that it should matter. Any male could say that having a morning erection was common. However Bilbo Baggins hadn’t had one himself in a while. 

He hadn’t found anyone he took fancy with enough for him to react in such a way. That being said, of all the times such a thing would happen it would have to be when he was on a journey. He could just hear the other dwarves taunting him. 

They would most certainly call him ‘the useless grocer who was less of a burglar and more of a perverted lecher’. While all this would be in good fun where they were concerned, Bilbo on the other hand did not find it as comical to poke fun at such personal matters.

Bilbo bit his lip. The need in his groin was becoming fierce, having been left unattended while Bilbo fretted over this and that. There was nothing for it. Bilbo would have to take care of his situation before any of the others woke; he’d be damned for the remainder of the journey otherwise. 

Bilbo took a quick sweep over the others, still nestled in their bedrolls; most snored loudly. Gandalf was soundly at rest leaning against a rock on the far side of their gathering. Even though Bilbo was on friendlier terms with the wizard than any of the dwarrows, the prospect of Gandalf finding out about his current predicament was still left to be desired.

As silently as he could manage Bilbo stood up from his bedroll and began to scamper off into the surrounding green. He didn’t go too far, the part of his brain that wasn’t overtaken by need telling him that it probably wasn’t safe even this early in the adventure. He settled on a decline coveted by fallen leaves and tall standing trees that grew seemingly miles high. 

Through the more sparse parts of the canopy he could see that the sky was lighting up; the stars were disappearing. Each minute that ticked by was another minute closer to the dwarrows waking up, discovering him in his lascivious actions; in short he had better finish the deed quickly.

Finding a random tree he thought was well and good enough to crouch beside Bilbo undid the laces to his trousers, bringing forth his erection and began to pump himself with earnest. The cool morning air that passed over his swollen shaft caused his breath to hitch. He leaned himself sideways against the tree, bracing himself with one hand, pumping himself in the other. 

Crouching on his heels, Master Baggins teetered back and forth a bit as he attempted to relieve himself. His hand moistening with pre-come, working himself from the base to the head and back again, Bilbo found himself moaning in his throat. While quietness was required in the tender situation he couldn’t help but feel pleasure.

He was enjoying himself, as any male would, with his thumb and fingers pressing into the over and undersides of his cock. Despite the fact that it was now his small mission to make sure he lived through the embarrassment, Eru forbid that he should be caught like this by the awakening dwarrows. Their encampment was not too far away. The dwarrows and wizard would surely wake soon enough.

Anxiety was creeping up on him at the prospect of being found out. He brought his elbow onto the tree so as to cover his thinned lips with his balled up fist; another precaution for silence.The closer he got to his release the more he thought such things as ‘any minute now’. Bilbo wouldn’t consider it himself at the time but perhaps his thoughts should have been turned into a fonder realization that he actually cared what the other dwarrows thought of him. 

The muscle in his hand was warm and thick. The attempt to release himself was mostly comparable to teasing the muscle than anything else. Bilbo let his mouth open to breathe heavily, shakily as he exhaled; he couldn’t come. In that moment he felt realization that he couldn’t pleasure himself enough to release.

Bilbo Baggins, as much as any normal male of any race, had pleasured himself before and was no stranger to his own members preferred ministrations. Why then, he asked himself, was he not able to complete the deed, especially in that moment when he needed it? 

If he had been in his right mind at the time and not overtaken by need he would have found that his anxiety towards being found out was hindering his passionate release. No one could become comfortable enough to satiate themselves if the oncoming threat of danger was imminent in their minds.

He would have to give up. Bilbo sighed rather aggressively, almost whining. He threw his arms out over his head in the air, letting himself fall flat on his back to the ground. His legs swooped out from under him and lay stretched out. 

He looked up to the sky, resigning to his fate. Soon someone would come upon him. Gandalf might come looking for him if not Bofur or Fili or Kili. The little decent conversations he’d had with the dwarrows were mostly with those three or Balin. Surely his fond feelings of them were shared; not that he preferred one to the other finding him in his predicament. 

His mind wandered briefly back to his bag and bed roll. If he had at least brought his weed and pipe with him he could have smoked it to try and calm down some. In fact that would have been the more rational thing to do to begin with instead of spending all his time trying to masturbate it out.

Bilbo voiced his annoyance with another groan tilting his head back towards the camp site, considering going and fetching his pipe if all were still snoring. The thought barely planted itself in his mind when cool eyes met Bilbo’s own brown ones. The obvious notion that someone was standing but a few feet from him passed through his mind before realizing who that someone was. 

Thorin Oakenshield, King under the mountain, was standing away from him on the decline, arms crossed, eyes unaverted. The pure shock that came over Bilbo left his mind completely blank. His expression upon seeing those cool eyes on him matched his blank thoughts. 

The first thought that entered his mind was when the sensation of cool air was felt on his nether regions; his cock had not been put away. Panic swept over Bilbo just as much as a deep flush. From his neck up to the points of his ears he felt his blood warming his facet. He jolted up right into sitting and hurriedly tried to tuck himself away. 

The worst had come to pass. Not only had he been found out but it had been by the one dwarf he had wished the most not to be found by. Even worse than Thorin finding him out was that as master Baggins tried to tuck himself in he found he couldn’t do it comfortably because he was still erect. He stopped just as soon as he had started because it was painful to try and put it away. 

His cock had been alerted in his awakening and then toyed with, what with master Baggins trying fruitlessly to pleasure himself. ‘What should I do?’ Bilbo wondered to himself at the same time thinking that if there were ever a time when he wished for sudden death more he couldn’t remember. The whole adventure was turning into the worst decision he had ever made.

“Hobbit.” 

Bilbo heard Thorin’s voice from behind him as well as the crunching of leaves underfoot; Thorin was advancing on him. Couldn’t Thorin read the situation Bilbo was in? Bilbo’s shoulders started to tremble with anxiety. Inwardly he began to almost pray that something would strike him down. 

The knee that he felt in his back jolted him in a way that almost made him cry out. While his mouth had opened wide in pure shock no sound elicited from him other than a small yelp, barely audible to any one’s ears if it had been at all.

“Are you not finished yet?”

Bilbo clenched the legs of his trousers between his fists. He honestly thought he would cry soon. He was an adult as far as hobbits were concerned and he had not cried in many, many years. The stress of the moment should have been all that was necessary to stop his hard on but there it was in front of him. 

As his head was hung low he was forced to stare at his swollen, pink predicament, protruding atop the closed space between his legs. He was embarrassed, to say the least, at having been caught in the act. 

The question Thorin posed to him was rude to boot. How could the one who had come sneaking up behind him ask him such a thing while kneeing him in the back as if to say ‘hurry up’?

The only thing Bilbo could utter was what was at the forefront of his mind; which were the reasons he was in his current state. “I couldn’t finish it.” 

Each syllable off his tongue caused his shoulders to tremble more. He had just admitted what he had been doing; not like he could lie at that point. Bilbo was on the verge of sputtering. If something didn’t happen he would go on rambling with every word that rolled off his tongue. 

He wanted to apologize for being a lecherous burglar, grocer who couldn’t control himself. He desperately wanted to make the point that it was a normal male occurrence. At the same time he wanted to assure said dwarf that he wouldn’t allow for a second time while on their adventure; not that those sorts of things happened by choice.

“Do you still have the rag Bofur gave you?” Bilbo couldn’t do much but register that the question was directed towards him. He was so ashamed at having been caught in the act all he could do was respond to the question as if it were the start of a normal conversation. 

“Yes.”

Bilbo couldn’t keep his thoughts organized enough to make any other response. He had started a nervous tick with his toes. Like a train he curled them from the pinky to the big toe and put them straight again. Albeit was rather fast but his actions allowed his attention to drift to something other than his erratic thought process. 

The coolness of the air between his toes was comforting; his trembling lessened some. He was trying his best to calm his breathing back to a steady pace at the same time. It was because his gaze lay on his toes that he took notice to a certain dwarf kneeling before his feet. Bilbo’s attention went up to blue eyes staring at him.

Thorin placed his hands under Bilbo’s knees, drawing them and his feet up off the ground, forcing Bilbo on his back again. “Wait- what?”

It was the only reaction Bilbo could manage as he wasn’t processing the situation quite clearly. Once fully on his back Thorin let down his knees so Bilbo’s feet were planted again. Thorin had situated himself right between the hobbits legs; comfortably placed in a self-prepared niche. 

Bilbo’s eyes had become like the saucers for tea cups. Largely rounded and white, the foliage surrounding them reflected in his eyes, only added to the likeness of a decorated flower design. His mouth was open just the slightest bit. In his current situation he managed to ask, “What exactly are you doing?”

Thankfully he was able to ask without stuttering a word. Surely, he thought, his nerves would pervade even his voice. 

“Hand it over.”

Thorin had his hand extended, seemingly ignoring the question. Bilbo did as he was asked, fidgeting with some difficulty, but retrieving the makeshift handkerchief from his left trouser pocket. Just as soon as Thorin had it in his hand he straightened up on his knees so as to undo his belts and laces to his own trousers.

Just then realizing what Thorin intended to do Bilbo’s mind exploded. If there had been any reasonable thought process in his mind it had all begun pouring out his ears; the debris of the blast. Aghast, Bilbo’s mouth, which had dropped open wide, began to flap open and closed. 

He was furtively trying his best to ask a question but couldn’t get the words out of his mouth while watching the dwarf king before him. Whether Thorin took any notice to Bilbo’s reactions wasn’t apparent. His expression was the same it usually was; stiff like a rock but eyes ever burning with intensity. 

The intensity came from his purpose driven life. Thorin was a king, albeit without a throne, but constantly living for the welfare of his people and kin. It wasn’t likely, however, that Thorin was in this predicament with master Baggins because he was that generous. Swiftly he unsheathed his length from his dressings, revealing himself to be rather large and swollen. 

Bilbo noticed only in passing that the king was erect just as much as he was. Thorin was moving to place himself over Bilbo. So close to rubbing their erections together Bilbo had only a mere second to place his hands on Thorin’s chest to stop him. Eru, if Thorin had succeeded in that first moment of contact Bilbo might have lost his mind completely.

In return for his actions Bilbo received a disapproving glare from the dwarf above him. Bilbo could feel the flush on his face, could hear his own breath coming in deep pants. He was so excited for that moment, though he didn’t know why. 

If he had thought on the reason he would have blamed the patterns of males that force them to wake up some mornings and have to relieve themselves. At present however, Bilbo’s thoughts were on another matter. What was Thorin doing trying to put himself in his own situation? Was he just looking for an excuse to rub out his own? 

Bilbo did have to admit that Thorin’s own erection was rather large indeed; tempting his own arousal with pre-come exuding from the tip of dark, taught flesh. Bilbo didn’t want to accept any of the reasons that came to mind or any others. When one has a physical relation with another it’s usually out of mutual feelings and agreement. 

In Bilbo’s mind one could not have one without the other; no matter how horny his morning erection caused him to be. If Thorin Oakenshield was seeking a momentary release, using himself as an excuse, he wouldn’t allow it. This moment being where his Tookish nature, at wanting to rub together with Thorin, took a back seat to the Baggins in his mind. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo began, not sure in what way he should tell Thorin that he wasn’t in the habit of lending out his body to carnal desires without being asked first. Thorin stared down at the hobbit beneath him regarding the mere fact that he was present. To interrupt a moment of need between two males, the matter must be important indeed. 

“Shouldn’t you ask before participating in the activities of others? Especially since I know you don’t much care for me, at least not enough to do this sort of thing out of charity.”

A moment of silence passed between them and Thorin’s expression changed. Bilbo couldn’t discern what the expression was. If he had guessed he would have said that Thorin’s brow had furrowed together because he was worried about something. Surely that wasn’t the case so Bilbo tucked the image of his face away for later examination. 

Thorin’s lips opened slightly though he said nothing. He seemed to have to consider his words as if phrasing them was a matter of importance. Bilbo dropped his hands back to the ground, propping himself up on both elbows, feet planted on the ground firmly.

Thorin’s lips pressed together in a straight line and his features took on that familiar note of confidence he usually exuded. In fact he grinned after recomposing himself; this took Bilbo by surprise. What was he to expect of a Thorin who grinned like a mischievous child having won the game? 

“Master Baggins,” The hunter lowered himself upon his prey; gleam in his eyes at his catch nervous beneath him; trapped between his forearms. Bilbo leaned back towards the ground as Thorin leaned in closer to him; their faces inches apart.

“Even though you have no beard, the arrangement of your features is not entirely repulsive to me. Furthermore you invited me when you started your lascivious action and permitted me a perfect view.”

Thorin ground his hips down against Bilbo’s eliciting a shocked gasp from the hobbit. The friction afforded to his cock from Thorin’s own caused master Baggins to thrust his hips up in appreciation instantly, though not against his better judgment. 

Bilbo regretted it as he saw Thorin’s grin widen, almost hidden beneath facial hair. The hobbit lay beneath the dwarf with conflicted thoughts, aroused, awaiting Thorin’s next move. Thorin’s expression didn’t hide anything as he was pleased with the hobbits reaction. 

He continued grinding their hips together, their balls and the base of their cocks rubbing against one another. The sweet friction it caused forced master Baggins back against the ground, head tilting back mussing the leaves spread there; he was moaning. His breath was catching in his throat; an action caused by the assailing pleasure. 

Thorin’s thrusts were deep and full of force, as he was just as hard as master Baggins there was no reason why he wouldn’t work towards his own release absorbingly. 

“I saw you even before you left the camp.” 

Thorin had leant into the crook of Biblo’s neck, lips ghosting over the skin there above his collar. His breath was hot against Bilbo’s skin and it moistened slightly from the added heat. He heard something akin to a growl near his ear and the stray tresses of Thorin’s hair tickled his cheek. 

“At first I thought ‘what could that foolish hobbit be doing now’. I followed you with the express intention of reprimanding you.”

The thought wasn’t too pleasing to the hobbit. Being reprimanded by the dwarf would have been alright if they hadn’t ended up in their current way of dealing with things. If he had been stopped at the beginning they wouldn’t be in the situation they were in now; rutting against one another in a most delightful way. 

Thorin brought his mouth closer to the hobbit’s ears moaning alongside the smaller form beneath him. Bilbo inclined himself towards Thorin unconsciously. In the midst of their grinding Bilbo could recall that he was still meant to be a respectable hobbit, as pleasurable as their shared moment was he couldn’t allow himself to think it was anything but a much needed attempt at release on both ends. 

“When I caught sight of you attempting to pleasure yourself, I can honestly say that it wasn’t what I was expecting to find. Your hips were jutting back and forth and your posterior was partially exposed to my eyes; what with your breeches loose around your hips. It was a sight to be sure. Be that as it may…”

Thorin trailed off, letting his words fill Bilbo’s mind, leaving the hobbit questioning the dwarf’s actions. If he had seen what Bilbo was doing why then was he here with him, doing this sort of thing? What benefit could it possibly afford the dwarf king? Eru why hadn’t he stopped him in the first place and spared him the embarrassment?

Thorin reached out beside them, taking Bilbo’s hand into his. Bilbo’s eyes darted to his in confusion. He had intertwined their fingers for a moment. He brought the hand up to his mouth, turning it over to place an open mouthed kiss to the palm. 

Bilbo could feel his tongue across the creases in his hand. Thorin’s thick muscle laving saliva onto him. Thorin took his mouth away, eyes never averting from Bilbo’s, before setting their hands to work. He moved them between their joined pelvises to wrap both their hands around their cocks. 

Encasing themselves together in warmth against the open air Thorin led Bilbo’s hand in a rapid motion of sliding up and down the length of their shafts. Bilbo began moaning more than breathing out; never would he have imagined Thorin’s hand around him. 

When Thorin had taken his hand he relished in the rough skin that was now encompassing him. Feeling Thorin’s lips on his palm, the open mouthed kiss, was enough to keep him satisfied for ages. The King had kissed him but not on the lips. While Bilbo was elated he was at the same time disappointed.

“T-Thorin?” What was happening to him? Bilbo was being absorbed by that hand, by those eyes, by the raspy moans that he found weren’t his own even as his head reared to let out his very distinct ones.

Their fingers played between intertwining and rubbing the other individually. Bilbo’s hand wrapped around Thorin’s length felt as natural to him as holding his pipe. Bilbo was shuddering, his release would come soon. He only hoped Thorin’s would follow soon after.

“Thorin,” he was too breathless to tell him of his impending climax. Thorin seemed to take the note as his hand was quickly filled with the rag Bilbo had handed to him at the beginning of their tryst. He covered the heads of their cocks with it, hoping to spare their clothes the stains of their shared activity.

“Go ahead Bilbo.” Bilbo was slightly relieved but disappointed. Now he would finally be able to come to climax without worry of the others finding out. Just as soon as that thought struck him the disappointment of Thorin not saying his name with more eroticism set in his mind. 

Without thinking of any repercussions Bilbo snaked his free hand around, in between Thorin’s arm and chest, so as to press against his back with his open palm. He pushed against Thorin so that he lay flush against him. Although this action trapped their hands between them Bilbo replaced their rubbing with his undulating hips. 

Thorin looked sideways to nutmeg eyes, taken aback by the other’s actions. Pulling his hand out from in between them Bilbo placed that hand alongside the other on Thorin’s back. He wanted to feel the other one more closely now. 

His previous thoughts of this all being for their mingled pleasure resurfaced; only adding to his disappointment. Inwardly he cursed himself; even on the brink of bliss his mind was always on. How he had wished that open kiss had been on his lips and that they could share it more times than once in their befuddled heat.

“Please, oh please…”

Thorin was returning Bilbo’s earnest thrusts with more powerful ones of his own. They were both at their limit. So close were they that the air seemed tangible with heat and moans. “Thorin, Thorin I want…” Bilbo gripped at the furs adorning the dwarf’s shoulders. Unable to finish his sentence Bilbo had groaned, teeth gritted together before letting the rest fall through open lips in shudders; he had reached his climax.

“Bilbo,” Thorin nearly roared, had it not been purposefully quieted. Just his name, Bilbo could tell, was full of restraint. Thorin had reached his climax just after Bilbo. The shudder in the frames of their bodies traveled for trembling breaths, arms, and legs; their spines arching and tensing. 

Bilbo, who still held Thorin against him, unwittingly refused to let go, though the strength in his arms was nothing to boast about especially after their tryst. He felt that the action of letting his hands fall from Thorin’s back was unnatural. Bilbo was ashamed that it took a momentary bout of pleasure for him to realize that the dwarf king was important to him out of more than respect and admiration.

Bilbo loved the strength of this king. He loved the eyes that always flared with certainty and pride. The way Thorin carried himself had at first seemed to intimidate Bilbo. In that moment where Thorin was just as weak as any male Bilbo thought to himself, ‘I want to be by his side. I want to serve him in a way only I can.’ 

Bilbo smiled forlornly. It was a beautifully sad thought that filled him with pride. Surely there was a way he could be of use to his king. ‘His king.’ Bilbo repeated the phrase in his head, content at the ease in which the thought settled. ‘My king…’

What was unsettling was that his feelings were new. What he and Thorin had just done had no feeling to it at all. Momentary bliss was just as aforementioned; fleeting happiness that left one unsatisfied. Again Bilbo wished he could cry then and there. If ever there was a reason for him to cry it was then when he thought his new found feelings would be forever one sided. 

Bilbo wanted to protest when Thorin began to push himself up off his body. His hands were forced to slide off Thorin’s back by the other’s actions but Bilbo refused to lose all contact until he had no choice. He took his grip from Thorin’s back down his shoulders and forearms, remaining there, holding the king in place unbeknownst to the other. 

Thorin looked worriedly to Bilbo. The hobbits face was scrunched together. The redness of his face Thorin would have attributed to their previous goings-on had it not been for the tears welling in the hobbits eyes; normally nutmeg brown eyes glistening bright. The light played on his eyes making them seem like glass orbs that had been made precisely to be placed in his hollows. 

“What is the matter Bilbo?”

Thorin asked with an unfamiliar tone of concern and softness in his voice. One hand occupied with his weight, holding himself above the Halfling by fractions, his free hand tossed the rag out to their side so as to be able to cup Bilbo’s cheek. Bilbo tilted his head into the calloused hand willingly. 

He opened his mouth to speak but he was choking on sobs. He was struggling so hard with the realization that he loved this dwarf, the thoughts that plagued his mind that he might never have his feelings reciprocated; he was nearly suffocating of sadness and pain. 

“Bilbo…”

Thorin could see his obvious choking. Bilbo wasn’t breathing in or out but his mouth was opening and closing. The grip that Bilbo had on Thorin’s sleeves tightened as he’d been pawing for extra purchase. He heard Bilbo take a sharp intake of air; he had to calm down. 

He forced himself to take air in through the nose and out through the mouth. It was pointless for him to get so worked up over things like ‘un-requited love’. If he died he’d never fulfill his wish to help the dwarrows to reclaim their home. 

After a few minutes his breathing was normal again. His body felt cold from all the adrenaline that had escaped him. His fingers slackened on Thorin’s forearms but did not release. If for even just a little while longer he could monopolize his king he didn’t mind being embarrassed to do it.

“Bilbo, I am sorry.” Not sure of when he had closed them Bilbo opened his eyes, hooded under long eyelashes, to peer at the dwarf above him. His eyes were blurry from tears having moistened his lashes and matted them together. 

“Perhaps it was not right of me to include myself in your self-indulgent endeavor. I have caused you harm.”

“No, you haven’t.” 

Thorin lifted one brow curiously at the statement; confusion hung between the two of them. Thorin thought he had been too rough with the hobbit and had somehow caused him to have a panic attack. Seeing there was a similar worry in the dwarf king’s expression, Bilbo sought to clarify the situation. 

“I enjoyed it thoroughly, as shameful as it is to admit. I thank you for coming to my aid.” Thorin’s expression still held worry, evident in the furrowing of his brow and the tight line of his lips.

“I didn’t mean to upset you by my outburst just now, I am sorry. I only had it because I was concerned about many matters before and during this experience. They hardly seem so important now.” Bilbo had to admit that his hands couldn’t hold the dwarf king any longer. If he kept him there he would end up confessing his feelings and he felt at that time that it would help no one.

“I am sorry.” He sighed resignedly through his nose, letting his eyelids flutter closed; he knew the situation for what it was. Their quest would need to continue and if there was any hope for normalcy between them Bilbo knew he’d have to forget the experience all together.

“Bilbo…” He opened his eyes to see Thorin still above him, concern evident in his expression. Bilbo returned the gaze with a small smile that didn’t really reach his eyes. Patting Thorin on his arm Bilbo made to wriggle out from under him.

“We’d better be getting back. The others should already be up by now.”

He leaned back on his elbows looking up towards the sky. They must have been absent for longer than he thought. There was the slightest bit of blue amongst the shades of red, gold, and purple filling the sky. The sun had risen and they would have a long day of riding to look forward to.  
Before he could be made to stand up Thorin grabbed him by his ankles and pulled him back underneath him.

“Th-Thorin!”

“We seem to have a misunderstanding between us.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bilbo didn’t understand the statement made either. He was fully preparing himself to go through more lonesome nights and days where he and Thorin would have to get along together while ignoring each other; it was the most likely scenario to play out in his mind.

What purpose did it serve for Thorin to reel him back underneath him like a fish on a line? Bilbo wriggled beneath him, pulled his knees up, closer to his chest, trying to get loose of Thorin’s grip. The two things that stopped them both in the midst of their struggles were their flaccid cock’s that happened to smack together with a fleshy thud.

Bilbo stopped struggling immediately and blushed across his face up to his ears. Looking up, Thorin’s brows were furrowed but the slightest hint of pink touched his cheeks. They had left themselves out in the open, completely forgetting to put themselves away after the fact. The image of frustration that Thorin so clearly presented would have been comical if Bilbo wasn’t also embarrassed himself.

“Oh for goodness sake! Let me at least make myself decent before whatever it is you are about to do!”

Thorin did release his ankles at that and Bilbo shimmied out from underneath him enough so he could sit up and tuck himself away. While doing so Thorin mimicked him if just to tuck his own back inside his trousers and do up his laces and belt.

“Bilbo,” he turned his attention back to Thorin just as he was beginning to stand up. Thorin stood beside him while he brushed the dirt off his bum.

“Did it escape your notice that I was just as… interested as you were at the start of this tryst?”

If it were possible Bilbo was sure that he had to be blushing deeper than he had before. He felt the heat on his cheeks, neck and ears. It was quite possible that it was travelling down the whole of his body because how could anyone have ignored such a swelling, large length when it had been presented to him?

“What- um,” Bilbo spluttered for a bit before taking a deep breath, trying to will his tongue to articulate his words properly.

“What is it that you’re getting at?” Bilbo had every right to be just a little miffed at Thorin for not being clear and confusing him; shaking his resolve to do what needed doing. For a moment all Thorin did was stare at him as if he were missing something important.

“I am not gifted with a way for words Bilbo,” he said breaking the pause. “What I am trying to say…”

Bilbo’s eyes widened as he watched a shade of pink darken Thorin’s cheeks. His brow furrowed, he covered his mouth with his hand and started cursing under his breathe; at least Bilbo thought from Thorin’s tone that he was cursing. Thorin was going off in khuzdul so he couldn’t be certain.

“Show me.” The situation unfolding before him was so unimaginable he didn’t want to see it for what it was. Thorin looked to Bilbo, brow lifted in surprise at the declarative statement. Bilbo stood firm albeit still blushing. If Thorin was trying to tell him what it most obviously seemed to be then maybe he could stand to hope and be brave.

“If you can’t tell me then show me.” His brow furrowed again completing his expression into a slight frown.

“What do you think it was I was trying to do just then-“

“But you didn’t kiss me.” The misunderstanding previously mentioned must have been on both ends. As Bilbo and Thorin stared at each other, slow understanding was creeping into their thoughts.

“When we were- just then- you and me…” Embarrassed that kissing should even need mentioning to be done Bilbo gestured nervously between him and Thorin and the ground. 

“You didn’t kiss me. I- I thought you were just taking advantage of the situation.” Thorin seemed taken aback by Bilbo’s thought process.

“You thought…”

“If that isn’t the case then show me! You- you’re such-“Bilbo groaned rubbing his hands over his face. He could feel his tears of frustration welling up in his eyes but bid them not to fall. He could hear the crunching of leaves as he assumed Thorin was approaching him.

Oh how he wanted to berate the proud dwarf; he was even considering striking out at him. He could feel Thorin standing next to him. He felt it more when his wrists were being pulled away from his face revealing that his tears had indeed started falling.

“You insufferable dwarf!” It was all Bilbo could get out before a pair of lips came crashing onto his. It was a sweet pressure of a kiss. There was no heat at first as their lips only just seamed together. Then Thorin started to nibble at Bilbo’s trembling lips, coaxing him open with his tongue across their seam.

Bilbo mewled at the feeling of Thorin’s tongue against him. As he opened his mouth to grant Thorin access he noted that his tears had stopped falling; his frustration ending when the absolution came of Thorin’s true feelings.

The muscle entering his orifice was thick and slick with Thorin’s saliva. Bilbo’s own tongue was tentative in meeting Thorin’s so he could taste the dwarf’s palate. Thorin tasted- well it was more a sensation than an actual taste. On Thorin’s tongue Bilbo had the sensation he got from fresh morning air; the same sensation he got from sitting on his front bench in the early morning to smoke.

The feeling was more than pleasant, so naturally when Thorin sucked on his muscle to draw him further in he obliged. He thrust his tongue inside Thorin’s eager mouth feeling teeth scrape on either side of him as his tongue was slowly release back out. Thorin broke the kiss there, both of them needing air.

Bilbo leaned into Thorin’s chest, his head light and dizzy. He let his palms span out over Thorin’s chest as his wrists were released so Thorin could wrap his arms around the Halfling’s back.

“If kissing is important enough to hobbits to convey my feelings then I hope that was satisfactory.” Bilbo huffed as an easy smile spread on his lips. The arms around him were pulling him tighter to Thorin. One of Thorin’s hands moved to his hip while the other was stroking the back of his neck.

Bilbo pulled back just enough to look Thorin in the eye with a playful pout. The expression on Thorin’s face emoted that he thought Bilbo was serious about being upset with him. His hold around Bilbo loosened enough that when Bilbo was far enough away from the broad chest he swatted it playfully. He smiled up at Thorin and giggled; his mood improved enough to joke. Thorin caught on quick and smiled himself.

“You know I do too,” Bilbo said still smiling. Thorin raised one brow in question before Bilbo tip toed up to plant a small peck on his lips; hoping that the action would be received in the same manner as Thorin’s own declaration.

Thorin’s smile widened in understanding and Bilbo was graced to see his white teeth rimming the inside of his lips.

“Next time you want to declare your feelings for me I expect to hear it properly though.”

“Then I shall ask that _next time,_ ” Thorin’s smile morphed into a mischievous smirk as the words passed his lips. He rested his forehead against Bilbo’s continuing his own stipulation, “you also oblige me in the same manner.”

Bilbo didn’t miss the dark look of lust that crept into Thorin’s blue eyes as he said _‘next time,’_. That look alone held so much promise for tomorrow; not to mention the kiss they had just shared. Just for now…

“I think we ought to be getting back though, all declarations aside the others are probably wondering where we went off to.” Bilbo started pulling away from Thorin’s encirclement, sliding one of his hands down Thorin’s arm to capture Thorin’s own.

Entwining their fingers together the Halfling started dragging Thorin back towards their campsite at a leisurely stride; arms brushing occasionally. He was enjoying their closeness till Thorin’s other hand came up to the edge of his shirt’s neck line, pulling it aside towards his shoulder.

Bilbo stopped walking, staring at Thorin confusedly. “Next time I hope to see more of you so I can see if these traits of yours continue southward.” He smiled at Bilbo who looked, if not more confused, shocked besides.

“What do you mean? What traits?” Bilbo hastily snatched his hand out of Thorin’s to cover up his neck, blushing all the while. He side stepped away from Thorin so as to inspect his neck out of the corner of his eye. Was there something on him he couldn’t see like a mark or a blemish of some kind?

“You have the slightest bit of freckles on either side of your neck- there in the space between your shoulders.” Bilbo regarded Thorin at that, the other still smiling at the Halfling. Bilbo looked back to his neck and back at Thorin again. As he couldn’t very well see his neck he’d just have to take Thorin’s word for it.

“Also when you blush,” Thorin stepped closer to Bilbo so he could pull the collar of Bilbo’s shirt away again. Bilbo could feel said blush creeping across his face anew. He could feel Thorin’s beard against his cheek as the dwarf continued.

“It spreads across your nose an up to your ears.” He took the lobe of Bilbo’s ear into his mouth; suckling the soft tissue with the barest amount of pressure. Bilbo sucked in a breathe, startled by the new pleasure he was experiencing.

“It also spreads down your neck and so I wondered…” 

Bilbo could feel the damp heat of Thorin’s breath as he spoke. Thorin was placing small kisses against Bilbo’s neck, making his way down to the crook between his shoulder and neck. The mewls his kisses solicited from said Hobbit had a new sense of arousal plunge in his gut.

“Do the freckles travel down your back?”

Bilbo gasped as he felt Thorin begin to suck at his crook; a spot only recently made erogenous by the dwarf’s musings. Thorin’s tongue laved over Bilbo’s skin as the taste of Hobbit had become his new interest.

“Oh, oh Thorin- wait!”

“Do these traits go down your front? Or perhaps both?”

The moment was so unaffording as far as time and placement were being considered. Thorin’s ministrations had the Hobbit feeling his previous heat returning with new zeal. The only problem with it was that the sun was obviously up and the company was probably waiting on them to return to start back on the road.

Bilbo keened with Thorin continuing his kisses and suckling along his neck and he distinctly felt a hand running along the front of his waist coat, applying pressure under the fingertips. Thorin pulled away from the Hobbit’s neck with a growl, seemingly directing a glare to the article of clothing.

Bilbo looked between Thorin and his waist coat somewhat hazy, his eyelids falling over half his eyes but, mostly with curiosity as to what Thorin was growling about. Pulling on the edge of Bilbo’s waistcoat, nearest to the buttons Thorin stated, “Too many layers.”

The Hobbit’s mind was blown by the statement. On the one hand what Thorin was implying was that he wanted to get the layers off the Hobbit’s body. On the other hand who was he to talk about layers with furs, shirts, jackets, mail, and Eru only knew what else was under there.

Bilbo was half inclined to inspect Thorin’s layers as it seemed like Thorin had the exact same notion in mind. His hands were on the buttons of Bilbo’s waistecoat when suddenly-

“Oi!”

“Kili, no! I told you-“

Both Thorin and Bilbo looked up the way, spotting Kili waving his arms, apparently trying to get their attention. Behind him stood Fili with his hand over his face, shaking his head probably in exasperation.

Bilbo chanced a side glance at Thorin noting the absolutely murderous glower he was sending to his nephews seemingly having no effect. “What?” was barked as Thorin’s reply.

Even from the distance Bilbo could see Kili’s grin at having ruffled his uncle’s feather’s. Fili looked more resigned than anything. He probably was anticipating his and Kili’s future punishment for having interrupted their Uncle’s seduction attempts.

“We were only wondering if you two would be joining us. Sometime today would be nice or else you could forgo breakfast altogether and leave us extra portions. Fili and I certainly wouldn’t mind the extra bits!”

“Oi,” Fili shoved his brother on the arm none too lightly. “Don’t bring me into this! You’re the one who wanted to interrupt them!”

“Well but they were nowhere to be seen and you said I should ask first before eating Uncle’s portions- you were eyeing Bilbo’s too!”

Since Fili and Kili were arguing about the food that was supposedly still left for the leader of their company and himself, Bilbo held the prospect that one of the only meal times he was afforded during their days on the journey could still be kept. As opposed to the seven meal times Hobbits usually had their company only ate three times a day if that.

Just then making its’ wishes known, Bilbo’s stomach gave a small gurgle that he felt alongside the hollow hole growing to his backbone. Bilbo looked to his stomach, placing his hands over it as if to comfort it from the lack of food it had been afforded in the wake of his stress and activities from earlier.

“I told you we should have gone back sooner.” Bilbo looked to Thorin, whose attention was back to him instead of his nephews. Bilbo made an attempt at making his best miserable face; trying playfully to make Thorin guilty for making them both late to breakfast.

“As I recall it was your fault to begin with my Halfling,” Thorin smirked at the none-too-pleased sort of smile that Bilbo emulated.

“Besides is the prospect of food really more important than what I was offering?” Bilbo canted his head slightly in a gesture meant to convey that he was weighing the better offers of food versus bodily activities in his head.

“Maybe not but you know those sorts of activities can’t be done too much on an empty stomach,” his stomach thoroughly agreeing to the statement as it gurgled again none too lightly. Thorin chuckled as he caught the sound, Bilbo adding his own laugh into the mix of noises.

“Come then my Halfling. I won’t keep you from your much anticipated breakfast anymore,” he said leading Bilbo back with his arm draped around his shoulders. Fili and Kili had been waiting for them up the way still. Upon noticing their Uncle and burglar heading their way they turned running back to the rest of the company in a hasty escape from their Uncle’s glare.

Bilbo wasn’t sure but he may or may not have heard Kili shouting about the other portions being claimed and a sound much like a collective wail following after. Since their portions hadn’t been eaten Bilbo could only wonder as he walked with Thorin, basking in the companionable atmosphere they had now developed, what the other members had been doing that left their part of the meal untouched.

The possibilities were running through his mind for many things including the subject of his breakfast having been left intact. The prospect of _‘next time,’_ made him smile all the more than the dwarrows raucous. When they found the time for it, what would ‘next time,’ entail he wondered.  
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FINISHED!!!!!!! OH GAWD!! I thought I’d never finish it and I tell you readers I know there may be areas where it seems a little… unrefined shall we say? I can see it in places but I don’t know how to fix it. If there are any mistakes I’ve made grammatically or if there are any suggestions I’m all ears.  
Please note that constructive criticism is not the same as bashing (be gentle with me… X3).  
Any how I hope you enjoyed it. I didn’t fill any kind of prompt here but my own (read top disclaimer for details). That being said I hope it will be enjoyable to be read as much as it was trying to be written. WHOOT!!  
I got writer’s block more than once is the reason I say all that up there.


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